Dinner Visits
by thunderstruck
Summary: The story of a girl, when all she wants is to be someone. (Title change from "Her Story)
1. Chapter 1

Yes! My first ever fanfic! Haha I really hope this thing doesn't end up reeeeeeeeeally bad. Oh well, I tried, right?

Okay, so… I've gotta put a disclaimer thinger here I suppose. Um… standards apply. I own nothing but the idea. It's my own (I think… er… I hope) Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Alrighty, here we go.

Her Story

I love to write. I always have, and I expect I always will. Be it a fairy tale or an encounter, I've written since I've known how to hold a quill. My passion, though, is writing the story of a persontheir life, their struggles, their triumphs, and their heartaches. Something about the reality of it all just grasps at me, begging me to write it all out.

My parents expected me to be an Auror, and that's what I became. Deep down inside though, I still had that passion for writing. It's a strange feeling to describe. It's almost like the first time I rode a broomstick. I felt so free. When I write, I get lost in a whole other world, my own world, where I make the rules, and I dictate what happens. It's an escape, a somewhat guilty pleasure I guess you could say. Any and every chance I get, I write. I've written just about anything you could think of. If you gave me a genre, chances are, I have stacks of parchment with my own scribbles on them that fit categorically in each variety.

There is one story, though, that I have not written: my story. I've written about my parents, my brothers (all six of them, yes), my friends, and their lives. But mine is still tucked away back in the dark caverns of my head. My story is unique, because it is about me. I know every single detail that has happened in my life. When I write about other people, I only write about what they tell me. They can choose to leave out or alter things that they see dreadful or thwarting. But when I write about myself, I have no limitations.

Why, then, have I not done so yet? I cannot tell you, simply because… I do not know the answer myself. Something kept me from telling my own story, something told me to keep quiet. But I think it's time I let you know the really Ginny Weasley. It's time you understood who really was the girl behind the long red hair and hand-me-down school robes. It's time I introduced you to me.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Disclaimer still applies, yadda yadda yadda…

"Mum, pass the pump—"

"Arthur, dear, what _are_ you doing?" Molly Weasley eyed her husband and the foreign object he held in his hand.

"Nothing, dear. Just having Harry here show me how to work this… this… what is it called again, Harry?"

"A calculator."

"Right, a cat-u-lator. He was just showing me how it works dear. VERY interesting. Got a whole stash of them at work!" Arthur Weasley looked eagerly back to where Harry was holding his newly acquired "cat-u-lator" and began admiring it with great awe.

Ginny sat across the table, a plate of food getting progressively colder. "Mum, can you please pass the pumpkin—"

"Fred! George! I said NO joke paraphernalia at the table! How many times! Honestly!" Molly chided, still oblivious to Ginny's request.

Ginny sighed. She loved her family. She really did. Sometimes, though, it was as if she was invisible. The twins were always in trouble with Molly, Arthur always had new Muggle gadgets he brought home from work, and Ron… well, Ginny wasn't quite sure how he didn't go as unnoticed as she did. He didn't tend to bring bagfuls of Skiving Snackboxes into the Burrow like the twins did whenever they dropped by. Maybe it was just that Ron was a good height taller than Ginny that made him stand out more.

Now that the twins had moved out of the Burrow, it was only Ginny and Ron left for Molly to fuss over. Still, Ginny constantly felt like she was invisible.

"Mum—" Ginny tried yet again to get her mother's attention, but Molly walked swiftly back to the kitchen.

"Just forgotten about the potatoes! Don't fill up your plates yet!"

Another sigh escaped Ginny, this time more pronounced. She longingly eyed the pitcher of pumpkin juice at the opposite end of the table, sitting in front of her mother's place. Across from Ginny, Harry nudged Hermione—both of whom had been invited to the Burrow for the dinner, as was customary whenever the twins came home. He whispered something in her ear, and Hermione's arm extended towards the pitcher diagonal from her plate. Ginny smiled as the pitcher was passed from Hermione to Harry, who in return looked to Ginny and said, "You looked thirsty." He winked at her, his piercing green eyes entrancing her for a moment before she was snapped back to reality. She smiled as she took the pitcher being passed over the table. and he laughed.

"Are you sure you weren't just reading my mind?" Ginny mused.

"Well, that… and the fact that you asked for it three times kind of gave you away." He smiled back at her, and at once, Ginny's insides melted. It was somewhat childish, how his mere smile drove her crazy.

After Hogwarts, Ron and Ginny had continued to live at the Burrow with their parents. The twins had moved out soon after their joke shop became a huge success. It was almost a weekly ritual to have them, in addition to Harry and Hermione, for dinner. A ritual, Ginny admitted only to herself, that she looked forward to with probably too much excitement.

Only Hermione knew of Ginny's crush. Ginny felt she was the only one she could confide in without Harry somehow finding out. And that she was a girl as well. Merlin forbid Ginny tell any of her brothers about something like that. She'd be the laughing stock of the family. Her mum she was hesitant to tell only because she knew Molly would make a great hubbub about it and insist on Harry's knowing.

Dinner moved along slowly, as it usually did. With all the talking everyone did, it was a wonder they actually got around to eating what was put on the table. But they polished off all the food, every time. Once or twice over the course of this particular meal, Ginny's foot accidentally hit Harry's under the table. When it happened, Harry looked up at Ginny, who smiled sheepishly, trying hard to keep herself from blushing. He smiled back at her and returned to the conversation, completely impassive compared to how Ginny felt inside. Her stomach was swimming and doing flips, not exactly mixing well with the food she had already consumed.

Hermione glanced up at Ginny, who looked as if she was extremely flustered, or about to be sick.

"Gin, you okay? You don't look too good."

"I… uh, I… I'm fine. Just need to go walk outside for a second. Feeling a little hot in here? Maybe it's just me. I'll be right back…" Ginny rambled as she got up from her seat and walked out the front door.

Hermione took her napkin off her lap and placed it on the table, standing up. "I'll go check on her."

When Hermione got outside, she saw Ginny standing down by the lake. She was hugging her arms to herself, and she seemed to be rocking back and forth slightly. She was staring down at the water, completely unaware of Hermione approaching behind her.

"Ginny?" Hermione said quietly, as not to surprise Ginny too much.

Ginny jumped with a start, turning her head around quick. When she saw Hermione, she snapped her head back around and tried to discreetly wipe the traces of tears off her cheeks.

"Hi Hermione."

"Gin, you okay? Were you crying?" Hermione's voice was soft and somewhat mother-like.

"No… of course not, what would make you say that?" Ginny lied as Hermione arrived at her side. She raised her eyebrow and Ginny, obviously not having believed Ginny's white lie. "Yeah, okay, I was."

"What's wrong?"

"That's the problem. I don't know."

"Is it the H-factor?" Hermione teased.

"The… what?" Ginny asked, thoroughly confused.

"Harry."

"Oh… him. Of course it is, 'Mione. What else would it be?" Ginny stared at a point somewhere across the lake.

"True, true." Hermione looked from Ginny's reddened eyes across the lake to the sun setting above the trees. "Well, I have to say, Gin, I don't know what's keeping you from taking any… action. It's perfect, you two, I swear. It's like it was a match made in heaven."

"Except for the whole 'I'm madly in love with him and he has no idea' thing." Ginny retorted.

"Well, then I guess he'll just have to some how 'get an idea,' won't he?" Ginny's eyes shot towards Hermione's face, where a sly grin was slowly growing across her lips.

"You wouldn't."

"You're right. I wouldn't. But you will." She gave Ginny a wink.

"I will, will I?" Ginny countered.

"Yes, you will, or else… I will be forced to take drastic measures."

Ginny chuckled. "Hermione Granger take drastic measures? What are you going to do, force me to read 'Hogwarts: A History' until I do something?"

"You know, that actually isn't a bad idea come to think of it…" Hermione looked back out over the lake thoughtfully.

"Very… funny." Ginny couldn't help but smile.

"Alright, enough time out here. I'm surprised they haven't sent a search party. Let's get back to dinner… or, what's left of it." Hermione turned her back on the lake and began to walk back towards the house. "Coming?" She called back over her shoulder when Ginny didn't immediately follow.

Ginny sighed. "Yeah, I'm coming." She too turned her back on the lake and made her way towards Hermione. When she reached her, the older girl put an arm around her shoulder, and together, they walked back to the merry gathering in the dining room.


End file.
